The Morning Of
by ShipperWriter
Summary: Elizabeth wasn't sure how she ended up naked, spooned against him, but she didn't really care. Oneshot. Takes place Season 3, between "Progeny" and "The Real World".


**Author's Notes:** This story was written for Happy Sparky Smutty Tuesday on the GW Sparky thread ... which somehow segued into Screw the Angst Wednesday in the ending. Takes place in between "Progeny" and "The Real World".

**Warnings:** Slight sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it. Just borrowing it for a while.

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><p>As Elizabeth started to drift back to consciousness, she was acutely aware of the warm body pressed up against her back and the protective hand covering her hip. She sighed in bliss. The last thing she remember about last night was talking on the balcony, staring out into the black waters of the Lantean ocean. She wasn't sure exactly how they had wound up in her quarters, naked, spooned against each other, but considering how relaxed she felt for the first time in a long time, she didn't really care that much.<p>

She heard a groan behind her as a pair of newly familiar lips pressed themselves to the nape of her neck. "Morning," a husky voice murmured sleepily.

Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile and shut her eyes. "Morning," she greeted in the same manner.

He sighed, and just as she felt the hand on her hip grip her even more the body behind her began to move away.

Blindly, she reached for his hand, moaning as she stroked his forearm. "No, no, just a few more minutes," she ordered weakly as her head snuggled into the pillow even further.

He made a sound that was a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Elizabeth," he slowly enunciated as he temporarily gave up on the idea of getting up, "I have work to do. And so do you."

"It can wait," she whispered as she began to drift off again. "Just a few minutes."

The handsome voice behind her scoffed in amusement, then lifted his hand from her reach and grasped her shoulder, gently turning her over on her back.

She groaned, then blinked her eyes open and saw the familiar ceiling above her. "All right, fine," she replied in defeat. "I'm awake. Are you happy now?"

The agonizingly slow kiss he placed at the base of her neck assured her that he was.

She moaned, her lower body arching upwards under the white sheet. "I thought you said we had work to do?"

"We do. Well," he clarified with a smirk, "_I_ do." And he started his work, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck towards the area the sheet still covered.

She giggled, craning her neck back. "You are horrible."

He smiled at her, then leaned back on his elbow and stared appreciatively at her. "But seriously. We can't hide in here all morning."

She shrugged as she lifted her hand to cup his cheek. "We're the bosses. I say we can."

John smirked, stretching his arms as he sat up.

Elizabeth stole a glance at that well defined chest that she had gotten to know so well last night and sighed. She had run her hands over every square inch, knew exactly where each muscle bulged. She could say the same for the area that the white sheet conveniently covered.

She glared playfully at him and pulled the sheet almost up to her neck. "Do you have to go?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "If we drop off the grid, Elizabeth, people will know something's up. And we can't risk that."

Though in agreement, Elizabeth nodded in disappointment. Judging by the look on John's face, the feeling was mutual.

After a few seconds, though, his hazel eyes looked back at her, sparkling with an idea.

"How about I make you a deal?" he offered, placing his strong hands on the pillow her head lay on and bracing himself over her.

She glanced sideways, looking at his wrists, then back up to him. "Go on."

"I gotta take a shower," John stated, eyes raking over her bed head. "It normally takes me about … oh, seven minutes."

Elizabeth stared quizzically at him. "Okay," she replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

He smiled cockily at her. "If you come join me, I'll make it fifteen minutes."

She quickly did the mental math and then chuckled. "Eight minutes? That's all you need?"

He shrugged as best he could in his current position. "It's all I can afford," he replied huskily as he began to bend his elbows, slowly lowering his face to hers.

She met him halfway and kissed him, gently nipping at his bottom lip as her hands ran down the sides of his chest and swiftly brushed past the developing bulge in his boxers.

John let out a hiss, then turned his eyes back to hers. "Okay," he acquiesced, narrowing his eyes as her green orbs smiled at him. "Twenty minutes."

"That's better," she whispered as her hands wound around the back of his neck, pulling him down again. The kiss this time was much more tender, less frantic than the previous arousing kisses. Her hand lingered on his face as it swept down his cheek. The stubble wasn't all that noticeable; only if you stared hard enough would you observe that he hadn't shaved yet. "I like the scruffiness," she teased with a smile.

John returned the smile, then grimaced. "Oh, crap," then pushed himself up and sat on the bed, rubbing his cheeks.

Elizabeth sat up next to him, concerned hands bracing his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"My razor's in my quarters," he replied simply, glancing back at her and her bare shoulders.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "So what?"

"Elizabeth, if people see me like this, they're gonna know that I didn't make it home last night," John answered, reaching down to the floor for his uniform pants.

She nodded, conceding the point at he stood up, buttoning his pants and walking across to the chair where his black tee shirt had been flung carelessly the night before.

As John pulled his shirt down, she folded her legs, bringing her knees up to her chin. The sheet still covered her breasts, and her hair was starting to get in her face. As she pushed a strand back, her eyebrow lifted. "John? Won't people be suspicious if they see you leaving my quarters?"

Without missing a beat, he held up a LSD as he finished tying his boot laces. "Got it covered." He left the jacket on the chair, then turned around and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not letting one wandering moron get in the way of my shower," he replied as he leaned over, giving her one last kiss before leaving.

She smiled shyly at him. "Hurry back."

"Oh, I will," he promised as he stood up and made his way towards the door, checking the LSD before he swiped his hand over the controls.

As soon as he left and the doors shut, she stood from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her lithe body as she made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a silk ivory robe that rested on a protruding hook from the wall. Once she traded the sheet for the robe, tying it securely in the front, she reached into the shower and flipped it on, giving the water a chance to heat up before John made his way back.

As she stood up, the reality of last night hit her in a form of a slight headache. Part of it descended from the neurons that started firing as the possibly ramifications occurred to her in her hazy state, and the other part was the constant headache she experienced daily as the Expedition leader.

She berated herself silently for allowing it to happen, but she didn't feel a great deal of remorse. As she slowly started to remember the way they fit together, something John had once said suddenly surfaced - "like chocolate and peanut butter". They were delicious on their own, true, but any time Elizabeth would eat a Reese's cup, she saw sparks fly.

The memory made her lick her lips as she considered adding a few items to the next requisition order that _Daedalus_ brought them.

As she let the water run, she wandered across the bedroom to her dresser, pulling out a few articles of clothing for the day and laying them on the chair where John's jacket still resided. As the fog lifted, she recalled no alcohol last night. She felt a bit disappointed, knowing that if this ever got out, there were no inhibition impairing substances to blame it on.

But she didn't regret it. She had needed to be close to someone. She needed to wake up in the morning, feeling snug and secure in his strong arms. She needed the knowledge that she could still make a man respond to her, like the way John's body had reacted last night. She wanted it to be _him_ more than anything.

A fleeting moment of peace drifted over her. Then the headache turned into a full blown migraine.

She groaned and began to walk to her nightstand, searching for the medicine Carson had prescribed for when her headaches occasionally worsened.

The door opened behind her again and John snuck in, quickly closing them. "Well, now that that's been taken care of - Elizabeth!"

A blackness surrounded her as she fell to the floor.

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><p>John tapped his earpiece frantically as he glanced around the room, crouching next to Elizabeth's unconscious body. "Beckett. Medical emergency. Doctor Weir's quarters."<p>

"What seems to be the problem, Colonel?" Carson's Scottish brogue quickly asked.

John froze. What was he going to say, "Oh, I just wandered into her quarters and found her unconscious"?

"Elizabeth's unconscious," he replied as he maneuvered his arms under her.

"Oh good Lord. Is she breathing?"

"Yes," he replied after a quick glance.

"Any signs of bleeding?"

"No."

The question and answer continued until John arrived at the infirmary doors, carrying Elizabeth's still body in his arms.

Once she was in a bed and Carson had put her under the scanner, he turned and glared at Sheppard. "Colonel, I need you to be honest and think carefully. Have you been in contact with anyone else besides Doctor Weir this morning?"

He shook his head, a frown forming in the process. "No. Why?"

Without giving a direct reply, Carson nodded at a medic who was dressed - in a hazmat suit?

"Put him in isolation."

"Carson, what the hell?"

"Elizabeth's brain is teeming with nanites. She must've been infected when Niam attacked her in the jumper."

As the medic led John into an isolation room, the colonel looked behind him and grimaced. "So why did they just now wake up?"

"I have no idea. The main thing right now is making sure you haven't been infected as well."

Slowly, John closed his eyes and exhaled. _I just had sex with Elizabeth_, he recanted silently. _They could be allover me_.

He faintly heard Carson yelling to someone to put an isolation tent around the bed that Elizabeth lay in, as well as bringing a portable scanner to check out John.

An hour later, John was thankful that Carson didn't have to pry into exactly where he had touched Elizabeth. If he had been truthful, they would have both blushed.

He stood in the room, separated from Elizabeth by plastic sheeting, as Beckett and McKay scoured over the computer screens, their attention fully on her.

John breathed in to try and calm himself. "What've you got, Doc?"

Behind him, Carson sighed. "It's gettin' worse." As John turned to look at the two doctors, Carson's reply confirmed his fears. "It's not just her brain anymore. They're spreading throughout her body." Glumly, he turned to look back at John. "We're losing her."

Nodding in defeated understanding, John couldn't help but turn back to the sight of Elizabeth, laying helplessly in the isolated bed with a nasal canula helping to supply her oxygen. He felt conflicted and guilty. Why was it that he got off clean, but Elizabeth had to pay the price?

He crossed his arms. He didn't like feeling helpless; he was a man of action, not one to sit back and watch as something he couldn't even see took over the body of someone so close to him.

His hazel eyes glared through the plastic tent, willing with all his might that her familiar eyes would open, that this was just a snafu that was easily fixed.

But nothing happened.

For once in his life, John Sheppard didn't know what to do. And it scared the hell out of him.

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><p>Thanks for reading!<p> 


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